


Whatever She Wants

by Chthonia



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: "Say it", Angst and Fluff and Smut, BDSM, Body Worship, Bondage, Consensual Kink, Cunnilingus, Dirty Talk, Dominant Kylo Ren, Established Relationship, F/M, Inappropriate Use of the Force, POV Kylo Ren, Restraints
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-23
Updated: 2018-02-23
Packaged: 2019-03-22 20:49:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,842
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13772268
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chthonia/pseuds/Chthonia
Summary: "Tie me down and take whatever you want."When Rey tells Ben she wants to re-enact the day they met, he isn't sure whether having her under his control will feed his fantasies - or his nightmares.





	Whatever She Wants

**Author's Note:**

  * For [starlightreader](https://archiveofourown.org/users/starlightreader/gifts).



> Well, starlightreader, that was a viciously tenacious plot bunny you set munching through my mind. I still can't quite believe I've written this - I hope you enjoy the result!

 

Ben pulled Rey close and drowsily kissed the top of her head. The aftermath of their lovemaking hummed through the bond, and he marvelled at the scent of her hair, the curve of her bare shoulder, the smoothness of her skin as he caressed her there. He trailed his fingers down her arm.

_His._

He pushed the thought to the back of his mind. He knew he shouldn't think about her like that, but he couldn't stop the fierce satisfaction that she had chosen _him._ Even after so many months, he could still hardly believe that she existed, that she'd come into his life, that she'd stayed. It was as if the lonely years before had belonged to someone else.

His hand slid past her elbow, down towards her wrist. She flinched.

"Rey?"

"Mmm…"

She pulled her hand away and cradled it against her chest. Ben's gaze sharpened. Gently, he caught her hand and lifted it into the light. The red marks were unmistakeable, and the sight of them made his heart freeze.

He sat up. "I hurt you."

"It's okay." She pulled her hand back. 

"It's not okay!" He felt sick. He'd hurt her so much in his former life; he'd sworn never to do so again. He tried so hard not to lose control…

She reached for him and ran her fingers through his hair. "It is, really. Just lie down and keep me warm."

He flopped down and held her tight, his face buried in her hair. She was so strong, so beautiful, he so didn't deserve her…

"Stop it," she murmured, lacing her fingers through his.

"Stop what?"

"Feeling guilty. It really doesn't matter."

He squeezed her hand. "It matters to me."

She sighed. Her embarrassment echoed in the bond.

Great. Now he'd made her uncomfortable on top of hurting her.

"Hey." She shook their joined hands. "I told you to stop that. If you must know, I…" Her words came out in a rush. "I kind of liked it."

"You _liked_ it? You like it when I hurt you?"

She curled in on herself, as if she could pull away from the bond and from his awareness of the sudden shame she was fighting. He waited, his mind whirling, waiting for her to say anything that would make this make sense.

At last, she muttered, "I like it when you hold me."

She pushed the image at him. His hands gripping her wrists, pressing her down into the mattress with arms stretched out as he braced himself above her, his face framed by hair that she wanted to wind her fingers into and pull him down for a kiss that would show him just how much she _needed…_ But he'd been the one in control. He'd made her wait, drinking in the sight of her while she'd writhed beneath him, and not being able to satisfy her lust had only stoked it further.

Ben blinked. He'd felt her response; he was hardening at the memory of it. But he'd never thought that she could be so caught up in it that she wouldn't care if he hurt her.

"It made it real," she said.

"Real?" He pressed their joined hands to her breastbone, molding his body to hers. He'd seen 'real'. 'Real' was a prisoner with blood running down his face, flinching away and begging for the pain to end. 'Real' was sullen hatred, revulsion at the monster's touch, a desperate snarl to _get out of my head._

Her breath hitched, and for an instant he caught an image of himself, crouching beside the interrogation chair, his gloved hands stark against her pale skin in places that were definitely _not_ drawn from memory.

She fantasised about _that?_

She cringed, burying the thought deep into the most private recesses of her mind.

"Stop." He'd spent too many hours fighting his guilt about that day – how he'd violated her – to let this go.

"Ben, I-"

He released her hand and slid his up to circle her throat, his thumb resting on her pulse point. "Show me."

Her heart beat faster.

He lowered his voice. "Show. Me."

And he was back in that room, looking up from the interrogation chair as the monster had removed his mask and become a man, as their eyes had met for the first time and something had jolted within her, something that should have been fear but wasn't. And the dark creature was crouching, murmuring that he _would take whatever he wanted_ as his hand brushed her forehead, and caressed her cheek, and slid down over her breasts as his mind held hers captive and laid all her secrets bare.

He let go of her and rolled onto his back, heart pounding. He'd seen that scenario play out so many times in his own mind, remembering the wonder in her eyes at that fleeting connection, wondering what might have happened if he'd kept his focus on her and not on the damned map, if he'd closed the gap between his hand and her cheek and actually touched her. But then he would remember the revolted fear in her gaze and feel the shame settle in his gut.

Now he understood her reluctance to reveal her own imaginings.

She shifted beside him. He felt her hand on her shoulder. "Ben?"

He didn't know what to say.

And then she was kneeling astride him, leaning down so that her hair hung in a curtain around them both. He felt her tongue on his lips and opened to her, pulling her close. He loved her. She should never be ashamed of her desires.

She lifted her head. "Neither should you."

He grimaced. He had so much to be ashamed of.

"Ben." She cradled his face in her hands. "Would you do it?"

"Do what?"

She swallowed. "Tie me down and take whatever you want."

He groaned as her words jolted straight to his cock. "It's not a good idea, Rey."

"Why not?" She rocked back, and he could feel the heat of her desire just as she could surely feel his. "You want it too."

And that was precisely why: because the part of him that dreamed of her shackled and at his mercy was the part he couldn't afford to let loose. He didn't want to know what he might want if he could take _anything_.

He moved beneath her, keeping his focus on what he wanted here and now. Rey, her hands splayed on her chest, looking at him with naked lust, was more than he'd once dared hope for.

She leaned forwards. "I trust you, Ben. Think about it."

Then she moved on him and he was enveloped in her heat and there was no more thinking about anything.

* * *

* * *

_"Think about it."_

He hadn't been able to stop thinking about it. About all the reasons why it was a Really Bad Idea.

Did she really want to recreate _that_ scenario? Did _he_ really want to bring it into the home where they'd so tenderly grown their love? How could he make sure he didn't hurt her? How could he make it remotely realistic anyhow?

Eventually he'd realised that he had stopped thinking and started planning.

And so it was that he found himself in one of the _Millennium Falcon's_ small cabins, struggling into trousers that really were a little too tight, pulling on arm guards that were stiffer than he'd ever remembered, shrugging into a heavy tunic, layering a woollen surcoat over that, and fastening a wide belt over the top.

It was just an approximation of what he had worn as Kylo Ren, pieced together from what he had found at the market stalls of interplanetary traders. But, looking in the mirror, it was a scarily effective one. The rigid belt made him stand straighter than he was used to, and the whole thing was hot and restrictive; he could feel his irritation growing. No wonder he had been in such a constant foul mood in those days.

If there was a difference between the image in the mirror and the one he remembered, it was in his face. He lifted his chin, trying to capture that old arrogance, that conviction that he was destined to rule the galaxy… He shivered. He could remember the thoughts, but he didn't want to relive the feelings. And he'd never been like that around Rey anyhow. This should be real enough for her.

He pulled on the gloves, draped the cowl over his head so his face was in shadow, and strode out into the corridor. The boots made his footsteps heavy, ringing out a warning of his presence.

She was waiting for him in the living area, draped in her desert garb, shifting her weight from foot to foot. She stilled as he entered, looking over him just as she had when he'd unmasked for her.

He felt her apprehension spike. And her anticipation along with it.

"You're beautiful," he breathed.

She gave him a shy smile, as if she really were meeting him for the first time. "So are you."

He- couldn't think. If there was any word he'd never have applied to his dark side incarnation, it was 'beautiful'. What the kriff was he supposed to do with that?

 _Not stand there like a lovestruck idiot_ , he told himself. He'd taken control that day and he had to do so now.

She took a step towards him. He flung out his hand and froze her in place.

And if she'd been apprehensive before, she was even more so now. He could feel her heart race without even listening for it.

 _This_ was what he remembered from the woods. She'd tried so hard to fight him, and she hadn't stood a chance but she'd stood there so brave and defiant anyhow.

All her attention was on him as he walked behind her, his gaze lingering on the curves outlined by the desert drapes and narrow belt, the skin revealed at the top of her arms where her arm wraps ended, the curve of her neck with her hair swept up…

It was the hair that made him pause. He'd not seen those three buns since that day on Starkiller. Not, at least, when he'd been on the same side of the galaxy as her. Not when he could reach out and touch…

"Beautiful," he murmured again.

She shivered.

He smiled inwardly. Would she describe him as 'beautiful' now? 

He stood in front of her and tilted her face up to his. He brushed a stray hair off her forehead.

_Mine. Mine. Mine._

He pushed the thought away.

He released his hold on her. She didn't move.

"Do you still want to do this?" he asked.

Her heart thumped. "Yes."

"Do you trust me?"

"…Yes."

"Then let me in." He nudged at her mind.

"I-"

He looked into her eyes. "You promised, Rey. I can't do this if you don't."

Her lips parted as she struggled with herself. And then her barriers fell away and he slipped into her mind, twining himself around her connection to the Force and squeezing it closed, leaving her just enough to sense his mood but not to read his thoughts and certainly not enough to release herself from where he was going to put her. He, on the other hand, could feel _everything._

She swayed, disoriented at the loss. Her world was narrowed to him, now. Just as it had been back then.

"Do you trust me?" he asked again. He knew the answer, could see it forming in her mind. But she needed to hear herself acknowledge it.

"Yes."

He ran his thumb along her cheek. It tingled through both of them.

"You know you can push me out," he reminded her. "If you really want to."

"Yes."

But that was the _last_ thing she wanted to do in that moment. What she wanted was to surrender to him completely.

He claimed her with a kiss: long and slow and thorough. When he released her she stared up at him, her thoughts inchoate.

Very gently, he pushed her into unconsciousness and caught her as she fell.

He pressed his lips to her forehead. Even that first day on Takodana, when all he'd known of her was fear and fiery defiance, he'd felt the need to protect her as she'd lain defenceless in his arms. Would it have been different, he wondered, if he'd kissed her when he'd held her that first time? If he had even admitted to himself that he wanted to? Would she have believed him then, when he'd offered to show her everything he knew?

He carried her into the cargo hold he'd programmed to open only for him, and laid her on the couch he'd prepared in the corner of the room. He ran his hands through his hair.

So this was it.

_Do you still want to do this?_

_Yes._

The room was smaller than the chamber on Starkiller, and lacked its hard-edged shininess. But judicious lighting would make the semi-hidden shapes in the shadows unsettling enough to make up for that.

The one illuminated object in the room was the interrogation rig in the centre. For the hundredth time, he checked the restraints worked as they should. It had been disturbingly easy to come by – the First Order and the Empire had produced far too many of the things, and there were plenty of junkyard bosses unscrupulous enough to sell them on with no questions asked. He'd had no compunction in _persuading_ the former owner of this one to let him have it for free.

It was an older model than the one he'd used in those days: a little wider, a little more tilted so that its subject would be lying back on a narrow platform rather than being caged in an upright position. But still perfectly effective, he'd been assured by the dispassionate part of him that he tried to forget, as he'd tightened the bolts and eased the rusted hinges. Similar enough to hold her in the way she'd remembered, but different enough to avoid triggering his own nightmares.

He hoped.

This was what _she_ wanted, he reminded himself.

He knelt beside her, considering. She wanted him to touch her, and by the Force he wanted to be able to touch her. But there was too much clothing in the way, and that would not be easy to rectify once he'd clamped those restraints around her arms.

He pushed aside the fabric draped over her shoulders and loosened her belt. He tugged on her tunic, guiding it up over her head and arms.

She hadn't worn a breast band. Her nipples pebbled in the cool air.

Ben swallowed.

Her breasts begged to be touched, but he would not. Not until he had woken her.

He rearranged the fabric over her shoulders, smoothing it down to cover her back and her chest. He pulled the belt snug around her waist.

He carried her to the device in the centre of the room. He positioned her carefully, as he had that day so long ago, holding each limb in turn so the metal rings couldn't pinch her flesh as he snapped them closed.

He checked the room one last time. She would not be able to see the couch from her position. The hidden heaters were working as they should. The walls were in shadow. All she'd be able to see would be him and how he'd bound her.

He had to be ready now.

He stood back and nudged her awake.

She jerked against the restraints as she had then, looking around wildly. She reached for the Force and found she could not. She felt the cool air on her skin and realised that under her wraps she was naked.

He stepped into the light.

Her eyes darkened. He drank in the sight of her flushed cheeks, her parted lips, her uselessly flexing fingers, the bare skin at her waist.

_His._

She wet her lips. "Where are we?"

He couldn't keep himself from smirking. There was only one possible answer to that.

"You're my guest." He moved closer, and for a moment he saw himself through her eyes, her memory of Kylo Ren's arrogance superimposed on the familiar face she loved.

Then, he had been so sure that he was in control. He was not so certain now. 

She tugged at the restraints, more from instinct than because she really wanted to be free. She'd dreamed of this, after all. She just hadn't dreamed he'd go to these lengths.

He brushed her cheek with the back of his hand. "You wanted it to be real, Rey."

She nodded. Her eyes never left his.

He kept his voice soft as he leaned over her. "What else did you want?"

She lifted her head, straining to meet his lips with hers.

He stood back. "I want you to tell me."

She blushed. "Kiss me."

He trailed his fingers down her throat. "Where?"

" _Every_ where."

He took hold of her top bun and pulled back her head, exposing her throat to his mouth. He pushed aside the fabric hiding her breasts, licked over her nipple. She whimpered as he took it into his mouth and sucked.

_Tie me down and take whatever you want._

She was spread out for the taking and he wanted to touch her, kiss her, worship her. But he also wanted to hold her, to feel her shiver as he teased her with his tongue. He wanted to feel her hand in his hair. And yes, oh yes, he wanted to look at her parted lips and her swollen nipples and the curve of her waist under the encircling belt, but just looking, just touching without being touched, felt weirdly detached.

He stood, pondering. "Close your eyes."

She opened her mouth as if to question him, then did as he said.

He turned to the shadows and sought out the box of bearings he'd seen in one of the piles there earlier. The one he chose had a diameter about the width of his thumb. The durasteel ball lay heavy in his palm.

He crouched beside Rey's head, leaning close as he had that first time he'd looked into her mind. He could feel her breath on his cheek. He slipped into her mind and he could feel his breath on hers.

He spun the bearing into the air with a gentle push of the Force. She flinched as the cold steel settled on her stomach, her alarm quickly soothed by his reassuring mental caress. She whimpered as he rolled the ball around her breasts. She squirmed, trying to guide it to where she ached to be touched, and he traced the lines of her desire, feeding her and denying her until she was writhing in her need.

He felt how every touch only heightened her need for more. How heat was pooling between her legs. How she longed to pull free from her restraints and feel him under her hands. How very much she needed him to deny her that.

He curled his fingers round her breast. She arched into his hand and he caught her nipple and pinched. She flexed her hips, straining for a friction that his restraints would never allow her.

And, well. That, at least, was something that Ben knew he could give her.

He released the leg restraints and yanked her trousers down. She stilled as he stripped her, as he closed his hands around her ankles and pushed her legs apart. He ran a finger over her opening and felt her shiver. He reached for the bearing and pushed it inside.

He stood back and watched her hips jerk as he moved it in circles inside her. Her eyes were wide open now, and fixed on him.

_"Please."_

Because she was still powerless to give herself release. That was up to him – and at the moment it pleased him to indulge her.

He climbed up and knelt between her legs. He lifted her legs onto his shoulders and leaned closer, reaching back to grip her ankles and lock her in place. She could deny him nothing now.

She trembled as he traced circles around her clitoris with his tongue. She hissed as he put his lips to her skin and sucked. And then he licked along the length of her opening and he was lost in the taste of her, in the scent of salt and sex, in her wet warmth as he thrust his tongue inside. He touched the bearing he'd pressed into her, now as hot as she was. She clenched around it, needing _more_.

He lifted his head. Hers was thrown back, her back arched as she'd strained to push down onto him. Then she felt the cool air where his mouth had been, and looked straight at him.

Her flushed cheeks, the stray hairs framing her face, her shining eyes: her whole countenance was pleading with him to continue. But he wanted to _hear_ it.

He kept his eyes on hers as he guided the bearing back and forth within her. She writhed, pulling against his hold on her ankles. He tightened his grip.

"Don't stop. Please don't stop."

And _there_ it was, the tremble in her voice as she begged him for his touch.

She flung back her head.

"Please… Kylo…"

His mind blanked.

Kylo.

Those echoes of his former life, the thoughts he kept locked in the darkest shadows of his mind. The fantasies that filled him with shame.

Kylo.

Destiny. Power. Control.

_Kylo._

She _wanted_ that. He could feel it in her, all tangled up with her horror that she'd admitted it.

Her eyes were wide, tracking him as he pushed aside her legs, crawled off the platform and walked around it to stand beside her head.

He brushed her hair from her cheek. She squirmed under his gaze.

His words came out in a growl. " _What_ did you just say?"

"Ben, I'm sorry, I-"

He put a finger to her lips and lowered his mouth to her ear. "Say it again."

He could feel her apprehension bleeding through the bond. But they both knew he wasn't going to hurt her. Not in any way she didn't want him to.

He took her lobe between his lips, ran his tongue along the edge of it. And bit down. She sucked in a breath.

"Say it."

She swallowed. "K- Kylo."

"Again."

"Kylo."

Her fear was growing. She had no idea what she'd unleashed.

He stood, looking down at her as she stared up at him. 

This was not how he had expected this game to go. But now the path had opened he would follow it to the end. If she would come with him.

"And what," he said slowly, "does a scavenger want from Kylo Ren?"

Her eyes darkened.

His hands curled into fists. This was her out. If she wanted to take it, by the Force he would end this now.

"I want…" She stared at him, part scared, part defiant, part something else entirely. "The _scavenger_ wants Kylo Ren inside her. She wants him to fuck her until she screams."

He tilted his head to the side, letting a slow smile spread across his face.

"She does?" He trailed his hand along her inner thigh, to where she was so wet and ready for him. "Ah, you do." And he plunged two fingers into her, making her cry out in shock and in pleasure and in need.

She had given herself to him. He could take whatever he wanted. And fuck, he shouldn't find that such a turn-on but he was harder now than he'd ever been in his life.

He fumbled with her belt buckle and pulled the free end out from under her, guiding it slowly over her skin. She shifted from side to side, straining to increase the pressure or escape it entirely.

He stopped.

"Ben, please."

Ah, no. She wasn't getting to go back on this now.

She bit her bottom lip.

He waited, draining all expression from his face.

She closed her eyes. "Kylo."

He nodded. That was more like it.

Slowly, slowly, he relieved her of her belt. He let it clang to the floor.

He waited for her to look at him again. To acknowledge the truth of this.

He leaned over her. "Do you remember what you said to me?" His voice was quiet, but not at all soft. "When you told me you wanted to do this?"

She nodded.

"Say it."

She turned her head away. He put his hand on her cheek and forced her to face him.

"Say it."

She looked at him then. Again he caught an image of his former self in her mind. There was not such a difference now.

"I said you should tie me down and take whatever you want."

"And I will, Rey," he said. "I promise you that. I'm going to caress you and kiss you and fuck you. But right now I just want to look at you." He pulled away her wraps and she was fully bared to him at last, from her dark hair and dark eyes to the darkness between her legs.

_His._

He splayed his hand on her belly, drinking in the sight of his black fingers against her white skin. She held herself still under his hand.

"You like it when I look at you." It was somewhere between a statement and a command.

"I prefer it when you touch me." She was trying for a coquettish tone, but she couldn't keep the plea out of her voice.

He smirked. "Oh, do you?"

He walked around her, talking in the view from all angles, feeling her frustration rise as he made her wait. She'd relaxed her legs, blocking the view he'd had of the most intimate part of her body, and that wouldn't do at all.

He slid the empty ankle cuffs up the platform and secured them just below her hips. He ran his hands down each of her legs in turn, seizing her ankles and locking them in place against her thighs. Spread like this, she could not deny him access now.

He eased a finger into her to demonstrate his point. She was even wetter than before.

He withdrew, ignoring her protesting moan. He eased the bearing out too, and placed it on her navel.

"We're going to carry on where we left off," he told her. "But this time you're not going to move. And you're not going to beg." He slid his hand from her belly, across her breasts, around her throat. "I know how much you want me," he whispered. "You don't need to tell me. Unless I tell you to."

He felt her shiver. He waited until he saw her nod. Then he stepped back where she couldn't see him.

He drew his awareness into himself, as he'd practiced so many times since Luke had humiliated him on the saltplain of Crait. He focussed on his presence in the Force, and stepped out and faced himself.

He watched his double climb up and take his place between her legs. He watched her watch him, desperate for the feel of his tongue but not daring to move a muscle. He watched himself dip his head to her, watched how his hair brushed against her skin, watched how she quivered with the need to move and the need not to.

As his other half lavished attention on her cunt, he stepped forward to take her mouth. Her mind was a scrambled blur of sensation.

He thrust his tongues deep, immersing himself in the mingled tastes of her. He flung out a hand, brushed against a breast and gripped, hard enough for her to cry out if he hadn't been there to swallow the sound. She arched her back – but stopped herself before she dislodged the bearing. All she could do was pour out desperate wordless pleas. He took it all in, drinking deep and giving no quarter. Until at last his tongue pressed on her clitoris and the instant of pleasure-pain intensity made her buck against the restraints. The bearing hit the floor and rolled away.

Kylo stepped back, shaking as he came back into himself. He snapped his belt open and let it fall. He kicked off his boots and pushed down his trousers, but he didn't remove his surcoat, or his tunic, or his gloves: it was Kylo she wanted, and Kylo she was going to get. The dark was going to fuck the light and the light was going to beg for more.

He pulled her hair out of its buns, wound it tight around his hand and yanked her head back. She stared up at him, lips parted and half-mad with lust. He thrust his tongue into her mouth. She threw herself against the restraints, desperate to pull him close or rake her nails down his back or press her own hand against the heat he'd been stoking, or all of it and more.

He released her hair, and lifted and dropped it so it fell around her shoulders. He brushed a stray strand from her cheek and smiled down at her. "I'm going to take you now."

She shivered. "Force, Kylo, _please..._ "

The desperation in her voice made him twitch. "So needy," he murmured. "So desperate to please. Would you have shown me that map if we'd done this back then, I wonder?"

Her eyes snapped into focus. "No."

He fisted his hand in her hair. "I believe you," he growled. "You denied your feelings for me for long enough as it was." He lowered his voice. "But you want me now, don't you?" He pulled her head back. "Don't you?"

"Yes, Force, _yes_ , I want you, Kylo please…"

He bit down on the soft skin at the side of her neck, sucking hard enough to bruise.

"I should have marked you then," he said.

"You did."

"I did." His gaze locked on hers as he climbed up between her legs. "But not as much as you marked me. Actions like that have consequences, Rey."

He plunged into her; she _howled_. And now that he was inside her at last he just wanted to make her cry out again and again and again, and _screw_ drawing it out because wasn't the whole point of this for him to take whatever he wanted?

She punctuated his thrusts with wordless cries, slamming her wrists against her cuffs.

He stilled. "Stop that."

"Let me touch you."

"You are touching me." He thrust in; she clenched hard around him.

She tugged on her restraints. _"Please."_

He withdrew, slowly, until he was barely touching her entrance. She whimpered.

"Rey." He waited until she'd met his gaze. "You're mine."

She squirmed, desperately trying to reach him. He held still.

"Please, Kylo."

"You know it's true." He could feel it, how her struggle against the restraints just made her helplessness all the clearer, how she was floating in the freedom they gave just to react to what he was doing to her. Here, now, she _wanted_ him to be in control.

"Say it."

She flung back her head. " _Force_ , Kylo, I'm yours. You know I'm yours. Just… please…"

He leaned over her, bracing himself with his left hand and tracing her right breast with the other. He rolled her nipple between his fingers, squeezed. She arched against her restraints.

He waited for her to look at him.

"You're mine," he repeated. "You gave yourself to me. And you are exactly where I want you to be. So stop fighting it."

She writhed, trying to reach his lips with hers. Her face was flushed, her hair tangled, her skin glistening. Her legs were spread for him, and he could smell how ready she was.

_His._

"You're beautiful, Rey," he said. "Keep still and let me look at you."

He pushed into her again, inch by agonisingly slow inch, his eyes locked on hers. He could feel her shaking with the effort not to react. Her need keened across their bond, but she knew now that pleading would get her nowhere.

_His._

His to love. His to protect. His to worship. His to fuck.

And when she wanted him to, his to tie down and use for his own selfish pleasure.

He thrust into her faster, harder, sinking into her mind to feel how she burned for him, how she reached for the release he'd been denying her, until finally her gasps turned to moans as she spasmed around him and screamed out his name. He shuddered and surrendered to her.

He wasn't sure which name she'd used. He didn't much care.

He leaned forward and kissed her. She gazed at him, dazed.

He eased himself off the platform and waved the restraints open, scooping her up and setting her gently on the floor with his arm around her waist. She stumbled against him.

_His._

_She_ had given him this, this thing he hadn't even known he needed. He didn't understand it. Couldn't think about it. All that mattered was _her._

He tightened his hold on her. "I love you."

She smiled at him. "Ben," she murmured. "I mean Kylo. I mean-" Her thoughts were still jumbled.

"It doesn't matter." She was his and he would never let anyone hurt her, and that, he realised, had applied to Kylo just as much as it applied to Ben.

He stroked her forehead and let her sleep.

He knelt by the couch while he applied bacta to where she'd broken her skin against the restraints. He couldn't look at the contraption in the centre of the room. Part of him wished he never had to look at it again. Part of him hoped he _would._

He left his dark clothing in a heap. The monster in the back of his mind was sated – for now. He didn't want to bring it back to their living space. 

He carried her to their bed, lay down beside her and pulled her close as he untangled himself from her mind and waited for her to stir.

She turned towards him and smiled sleepily. "Ben?"

"Rey." He kissed her, pouring into it all the love and admiration that he couldn't put into words.

She burrowed her head against his chest. "Don't feel bad."

"I'm not." And it was true. Somehow he felt more at peace than he had for years.

"Good." She peeked up at him through a veil of hair. "So… " She smiled. "Does that mean we can do that again?"

He smiled slowly, his heart thumping as he lifted her hand to his mouth for a kiss that was both affirmation and supplication. "Whatever you want," he promised.

He was hers, he thought as they drifted off to sleep.

She was his.

_His_

This time, he did not push the thought away.


End file.
